No Sleep For the Weary
by UnfathomableFandoms
Summary: The vision came in a dream, the last full night of sleep he would ever get.
1. Chapter 1

**(This is not congruent with season 2 or "Legacy")**

* * *

" _Sir, I have spotted the Rebel ship. It has landed in a field and does not seem to be active. Do I engage?"_

Stromtrooper #5556's voice crackled into Agent Kallus's comm, sending a jolt of excitement through him. He nearly spilled the lukewarm caff he'd been neglecting to drink. He sat up in his seat, pushing away the datapad he had been reading prison reports from.

It was the one prison-and a small one- that hadn't been attacked by the blasted Lothal rebels yet. Kallus had plans to expand the prison, and prepare rooms for more... _important_ prisoners. Kallus yawned, stretching to wake himself up. It was always a long night, and it was longer since those traitorous rebel fools crept up like weeds.

"Send the coordinates. I will gather a battalion and meet you there. We will infiltrate the ship and arrest these Rebels when they least expect it. I will request a promotion for you, Trooper #5556." Kallus smirked. Promotions never failed to be a good impetus for a foolish trooper.

"Yes Sir. I mean thank you Sir. Sending the coordinates." His datapad pinged, and the coordinates appeared on screen.

The Rebels would be apprehended and shipped off to the new prison, the Jedi would be tortured again until his brain shorted out and he died with the rest of the crew, the Padawan would be shipped off to Darth Vader, and Kallus would be paid in a promotion and enough money to buy a small planet.

The Rebels would be decimated, killed for their wrongdoings and for killing the peace.

All for the Glory of the Empire.

* * *

Zeb twirled the fork in his hand, reveling in the scent of syrup and spacewaffles. There was nothing wrong with a late dinner of breakfast. Fulcrum didn't have any missions for them, so they all took a much needed break. Even Hera had retired to her…er… _Kanan's_ bed, tiredly telling Zeb to keep his dirty mouth shut or he'd be cleaning the engine room for days. Zeb had simply chuckled.

But some nights, he had trouble sleeping. Ezra reminded him too much of some of the Lasat kits he had known. Too bright, too sarcastic.

And he'd left them behind just the same, pleading and crying, begging for their lives. It had been several months since the Kid had joined, but the look of betrayal on his face was still too familiar. And Zeb didn't like to think on it.

Nights like tonight, spacewaffles were always the answer. Everyone had nights like these, and everyone had their remedies. Kanan had meditation, Zeb had his waffles.

Chopper rolled by, clucking distastefully when the turned his sensor toward Zeb. "Keep moving, droid. You know Ezra'll help me dismantle ya if you wake him up from 'is _beauty sleep_."

Chopper clucked something that must have been a curse in binary and moved on. Zeb shrugged, chewing on a mouthful of sticky, sweet syrupy waffles.

Something felt wrong. He heard… something. At first he'd been too distracted to notice it, too busy mulling over his thoughts.

Zeb dropped his fork with a clang. _What..._ what _was_ that? His pointed ears flicked as he strained to hear again. He thought he'd heard something like a speeder. If the Jedi had such heightened senses, Zeb wondered how they stayed sane- though sometimes he wondered if Kanan really had lost his mind.

Zeb sat up, stuffing a final mouthful into his maw and making his way to the dorsal turret, where he could look out on the Lothal night.

Not for pleasure, no. Zeb wasn't for that poetic stargazing Bantha poodoo. He wanted to see what was out there. He could see and hear better than anyone on the Crew, so if something was out there, he'd know.

Zeb leaned on the back of the chair, his eyes adjusting to night vision as he stared out to the dark fields, where the grass swayed under the light of the half-moons and the stars, and Capitol City could be seen as jagged shadows on the horizon.

The grass ruffled as if something were moving through it and Zeb focused his gaze on the movement. It was far too big to be an animal, and the long grass was being shifted in the opposite direction of the wind.

"Karabast," He whispered.

There were several of them, lined up in perfect battle formation. They were gray, moving through the grass dutifully as if parting a crowd.

Zeb straightened, a stunned sort of silence settling over him like battle chills. The Empire had found them.

Ezra new this vision was real. He didn't know how, but something tickled in his spine and told him to _get up._

Ezra shoved off his blankets, waving his hand to turn on the lights. The Force flowed through him, put a familiar jump in his step that came to him when he needed to move. On the streets, he'd had to be able to wake up and be on the move before he could wipe the crust form his eyes.

 _They're here._ The Force had whispered it in his ear, painted a picture that chilled him even in his sleep. They were here to take them like his parents.

And he also knew that his parents would be in the same place they took them.

"Zeb! Zeb wake-" Zeb wasn't in his bed. The sheets were surprisingly neatly made, as if he hadn't even been there at all. Sometimes, he stayed up late into the night doing who knows what. He'd probably seen the transports by now.

Ezra ran out of the room. Kanan was opening his door down the hall. He dragged Hera with him, rubbing her eyes. Ezra decided not to comment as Hera pushed past them to run to Sabine's cabin.

"You saw it too?" Kanan asked. He was strapping on his armor with militant ease. He must have done this every day for years.

Ezra nodded, blinking owlishly. "They have my-" Ezra froze. He couldn't tell him the admittedly hair-brained plan he was forming. Step one: get captured. Step eighty: Save his parents and stick it to the Empire.

Ezra didn't know the other seventy-eight steps, but he knew Hera would never allow him to go through with them, not after his last gamble. Ezra pursed his lips. "Where's Zeb?"

Kanan waved a hand to the galley. "Said he couldn't sleep."

Hera jogged past. "Got Sabine up. I'll get this bird flying." Kanan nodded.

Kanan turned to Ezra again, and something in his eyes scared him almost as much as the Empire. Ezra cracked his knuckles nervously, picking a loose thread on his sleepshirt.

"You saw something else, didn't you?"

Ezra bit his lip. "My parents… they're alive." No use lying, Kanan had called him out for smaller lies. Nothing got past him.

Kanan's eyes drifted. He ran a hand through his hair. It hung down around his neck, tangled in spots. This was the first time Ezra had ever seen it down. It looked a lot like his own.

Kanan looked at the hand he ran through his hair as if it had betrayed him and tucked it behind his back. He finally met Ezra's eyes. "I know."

Ezra clenched his fists. He could feel the floor of the Ghost humming underneath him, getting ready to take off. And if they took off, they would be free, but his parents wouldn't be.

And he'd forever be shackled to the notion.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ezra shut his eyes, breathing deeply, counting down form ten. He couldn't lash out. Kanan cared about him, and he probably had a good reason.

"Ezra, look at me. If we told you what we knew it would only hurt you. We needed time to come up with a plan. We can't go rushing in or we'll all be caught and the Empire will have more prisoners."

Ezra set his jaw. "We can escape! We've done it before!" Ezra knew he was fighting a losing battle, but he couldn't help it. These were his _parents,_ and they didn't care if the battle they fought had been a losing one. It was only right that he fought for them.

Kanan shook his head. "At what cost? We almost lost you!" Kanan pursed his lips. "Imagine how hard it would be for the fleet to rescue seven prisoners and a droid."

Ezra bit his tongue. Kanan was right, of course. Just rescuing Kanan was a close call. Ezra knew he cared about him, but if he cared, shouldn't he understand why he _had_ to do this?

Kanan wrapped an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly, just like his father used to. At least, he thought this was how a father should hold his son. He couldn't remember- only the ghost of hands that weren't nearly as calloused as Kanan's, and a whiff of cologne.

Ezra held Kanan tighter.

"Promise me you'll stay with me?" Kanan's voice came from above his head, and his breath ruffled Ezra's hair. Kanan pulled away and looked him in the eye, steady and pleading. "Ezra?"

Ezra winced. When he was six, he had promised his parents not to grow up too fast. Some promises were made to be broken. "I promise."

Ezra wasn't sure if he meant it or not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Previously:**

 ** _"Sir, I have spotted the Rebel ship. It has landed in a field and does not seem to be active. Do I engage?"_**

 **They were here to take him like his parents. And he also knew that wherever they took them, his parents would be there.**

 **"Promise you'll stay with me?" Kanan asked.**

 **"I promise."**

* * *

The _Ghost_ swayed abruptly and Ezra's forehead slammed hard into Kanan's armored shoulder.

Kanan steadied him, holding onto Ezra's shoulders. He regarded Ezra with a look so concerned that Ezra wanted to tell him to stop. He wasn't his father, and he didn't need to worry over Ezra. No one did.

"I'm fine, Kanan." He said, trying to square his jaw.

Kanan nodded. "It looks like I'm needed elsewhere." Kanan patted Ezra's shoulder gently before he ran for the dorsal turret.

Ezra tried to push the idea of rescuing his parents out of his mind. After all, he'd come to terms with the abysmal reality for eight years now. What were the chances of being reunited with them now?

And yet…

Ezra shook his head. He couldn't afford to go chasing after dreams and visions anymore, not when he had so much to leave behind.

It was _stupid._

Ezra sighed and headed to the cockpit. Maybe he could be useful to Hera. She was bound to have some repairs for him to do when this was all over, something to distract him.

Ezra sank down in the copilot's chair. Hera didn't acknowledge him, far too concentrated on piloting the ship and dodging blaster fire.

A TIE swooped into view like a bird of prey, but burst into a brilliant display of light thanks to a well-timed shot from Kanan. Ezra covered his eyes, and when it faded, he saw the remains of the TIE spiraling to the grassy plains below. He saw the pilot eject, and their parachute activated, probably too late.

Hera risked a glance at Ezra. "Strap in," she ordered, before turning back to the controls. Ezra ignored her command, knowing he'd likely have to jump up in a moment. Soon enough, they would be out of here, safely in space and jumping to hyperspace. Ezra could leave these crazy rescue plans behind him. He'd left them behind before. He only needed to ignore the itch a little longer...

He heard the screech overhead of TIES, and craned his neck to try to see them. They were nowhere on the radar. _This is a new maneuver,_ he thought.

Hera yanked on the controls on instinct, and Ezra held on as the _Ghost_ swerved. He was starting to wish he had buckled in.

"I still can't see them!"

Ezra closed his eyes and reached out with the Force; _where were the kriffin..._

 _Oh no._

"Hera! Turn no-"

He was too late, and the ship shuddered as the TIE's fire hit their target.

Hera frantically pushed buttons as a thousand blaring alarms went off. Lights flashed all across the dashboard.

"This just got complicated," Hera muttered.

"Where did they hit us?"

"They took out our shields, and our fuel is already low. Even if we manage to get away, we won't get very far. We'll need time for repairs, but-"

"They'll be on our tail." H finished for her. Hera's brow tightened.  
 _Karabast,_ Ezra thought. Surely of all times for their luck to run out, it wasn't going to be now, was it?

 _Not if I can help it,_ he thought. He leapt out of his seat. "I'll see what I can do. Tell Kanan we need cover."

Hera grimaced. "He'd been giving us cover this whole time."

"Well, tell him we need _more_ cover!" Ezra ducked under the console, lying on his back. Shields went down all the time; he knew how to fix them. Rerouting power was easy. But it would take time, and if he made a mistake…

Ezra didn't want to think about that. There could be an electrical fire…or they could just have to go without lights for a little while. It all depended on which wire he cut.

Ezra bit his lip and pushed his hair back, concentrating. He couldn't see much. It was too dark.

"Hey Chop?"

Chopper came barreling down the hallway, screeching and whining at Ezra.

Ezra sighed. "Would you get over here? I need a light."

He clucked and whirred some more, clearly agitated.

"No, I can't use my lightsaber. I don't want to _die_."

Chop groaned and rolled up beside Ezra, activating a small flashlight from beneath his dome.

Ezra fished around inside the console, navigating a maze of different wires and switches. Ezra pushed a safety button that would allow him to hack in without electrifying himself or anyone else while this section was down. He unplugged two wires, and switched them.

Ezra crawled out, as quickly as he could. The Ghost's walls roared as Hera swooped to avoid another shot. "Okay, Chop, I need you to connect to this panel and reprogram the shield generator."

Chopper groaned and connected to the system.

The gears twirled, and Hera dodged blaster fire.

"Chopper!"

Chop whirred and the gears turned faster.

"Ezra, hold on. We're about to exit atmosphere."

Ezra sat down in Kanan's copilot chair and buckled in while Chopper magnetized his feet to the floor. His heart jumped up into his throat, and gravity dragged his stomach down into his boots. The harness dug into Ezra's navel. There was bright flash and Ezra shut his eyes.

Ezra always hated this part. The weightless feeling, the red light through his eyelids.

When he opened his eyes, they had left Lothal behind. They were surrounded by the stars. When Ezra leaned forward, he could just make out Lothal, back-lit by its atmosphere.

His view was interrupted by TIE fighters.

"I'll need those shields!"

"Chopper, what's taking you so long?" Ezra asked. He gripped the armrests, bracing for imminent death.

A TIE swooped out of view, and Ezra had a horrible, sickening feeling that this would be the one that hit, the one even Hera couldn't swerve. Ezra unbuckled his harness. He didn't want it to jam into his organs. If it came to it, he'd rather hold take his chances with the windshield.

He swallowed hard, digging his fingers harder into the armrests. His knuckles started to cramp.

 _Please no please no please no ple-_

The TIE fire struck the Ghost and the freighter lurched and righted itself, blaring even more alarms. Chopper let out a frantic stream of chatter, most of it curses in binary.

Hera recovered quickly, yanking on the controls. She cursed under her breath, pressing buttons madly.

"Shields are back, but they hit our fuel line!"

It took a moment to sink in. He'd been hoping the Force would at least spare them somehow - maybe they would hit some paneling they could replace.

But now they wouldn't be getting much farther than Garell, and the Empire didn't make a habit of giving them time for repairs.

Kanan's panicked voice crackled over the intercom. "Can we jump?"

Hera's jaw was clenched tight like a vice. "Yes, we can jump. But if we run out of fuel in the middle of hyperspace-"

"Spare me the details. I've got you an opening. JUMP!"

"Chopper, send us to Garell."

Chopper didn't even complain, which meant a lot. He simply plugged in, found the saved coordinates, and sent them shooting off in an explosion of light.

Hera sat back and sighed, closing her eyes. Ezra looked down. He didn't want to see Hera like this.

Ezra stood. "I'll go run diagnostics. Maybe it's not as bad as we think."

Hera nodded, not opening her eyes. "Thank you," she said quietly.


	3. Chapter 3

**(NOTE, IMPORTANT! I'm going through a tough spot and my willingness to write slumped. My laptop also died and all of my files with it. This is all of the next chapter that I had saved in my google drive after my beta, radicalcat, edited it. There may not be another chapter for a while.)**

* * *

Ezra threw his wrench at the wall. It pinged against the metal paneling and landed with a dull ring on the floor.

 _Karabast._

He hadn't been expecting miracle, but the results of the diagnostic as enough to crush his spirits. The fuel line was completely busted, the main line had been melted by internal shrapnel and the what was left in their tanks had been jettisoned into the vacuum of space. Now the Ghost as running off fumes.

The fuel line wasn't like shields; it wasn't something he could just reprogram or reroute. They would need time and supplies to make the repairs, both of which they couldn't afford.

Ezra sighed and slid down the wall, pushing his hair back from his face. His entire day had been a disaster, and he hadn't even had breakfast yet.

He wasn't even a little bit hungry though. He was too shocked and drained, emotionally and physically, to even think of doing anything but lying down to sleep.

Would he see his parents again if he did? The thought tugged at his heart, a feeling of guilt settling in his chest. He had abandoned them, he'd had no choice of course, but still...

"Ezra?" Kanan called his name, startling Ezra from his position, curled up on the floor.

Kanan sat down next to Ezra, folding his lanky frame down beside him. Ezra scooted away.

"Hey," Kanan said softly.

Ezra mumbled a vague reply. Kanan sighed, holding his hand over Ezra's shoulder, as if deciding whether to touch him or leave him be. He cleared his throat and let his hand fall to his lap. "Got something on your mind?"

Ezra shrugged. "The fuel line's busted, and I can't fix it."

Kanan chuckled. "I know you better than that." He studied Ezra for a moment. "It's not your fault, you know that, right?"

Ezra looked up. "What'daya mean?"

"You wanted to stay behind to rescue your parents. Now the _Ghost_ needs repairs. Some would say it's fate."

Ezra took a moment to process it. What if he really had manipulated the Force into making the _Ghost_ an easy target for the Empire? If they were captured, would it be coincidence, or would it be all his fault? "Oh."

"Maybe I shouldn't have brought that up," Kanan muttered.

"Yeah." Ezra bit at his lip, shell-shocked. "You really think that?"

Kanan huffed. "The Force has mysterious ways, Ezra, You can't change what happened.'

"You didn't have to make it that complicated, you know."

Kanan stood up, offering Ezra a hand. "Maybe I needed to hear it like that. Now let's see about the diagnosis."

Ezra let Kanan heave him up. He looked at the console, watching the red light blink where they had been hit. "Already checked. Just as ugly as we thought."

Kanan studied the diagram, stroking his chin. "I'll talk to Hera about a strategy. We'll need supplies. Maybe Phoenix squadron can help."

* * *

Sabine sat back, admiring her handiwork. It didn't look like much, a measly little round capsule.

It had been her pet project since Kanan was captured, once a grim idea turned into harsh reality. This could really be necessary in the worst-case.

There were a lot of worst-cases, and she'd need to duplicate more of these. She barely had time to pick up supplies that should be enough for five, just enough. She'd have to make something for Chopper too. They could get more information out of a droid than they could a human brain.

She just hoped she had it right. There was no way to test it, so she just had to hope it would serve its purpose, and hoped it was never needed.

The way things were looking right now, it could be.

Hera had to know. She would be the only one to understand its necessity, other than Sabine. Maybe Sato, but she could whip up a recipe for Hera to give him. Just in case.


End file.
